Category Archives: sky

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water door

This is for Thursday doors, though today is Friday. I took this from one of the docks down town, looking back. The buildings are from the late 1800s and many have elaborate decoration on the street side and then are brick on the water side. The tide is quite far out in this shot, with the pilings and beach and barnacles exposed. These are old doors for our area.

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tree spot 7

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Oh, there! This is a yellow crowned night heron. I also photographed a juvenile along Riverwalk, but this adult was in the busy section at 5 pm. About 30 feet up in a tree, but not otherwise hidden. There are ducks and pigeons and sparrows along Riverwalk, but it seems that the herons are thriving too. Bravo for this strip of nature that runs through the city like an oasis, winding among the streets.

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I am sorry about the wings

I am sorry about the wings

During the massage today
my poor back aches so
where my wings should be

Guilt

If the Beloved gives me wings
I should fly

but I would rather be in the water
I feel so much safer here

and then I think
maybe I should stop
jumping off of cliffs…..

I should stop jumping off of cliffs….

I follow that thought
I should stay in the water
keep my tail and scales

I have come out so many times

lately only for you

you will not come in the water

you don’t want to hear me sing

you want me to be silent and listen

you want me to agree about the past

and collapse

I say here

here is the future

I can see it
and you don’t answer

you don’t listen
when I return to the sea

you call me
and you come to the edge of the sea
to call me
but you won’t come in

I have come out to you
on those painful legs
for which I sacrifice my voice

you would have scales and a tail
if you came to me
come to the future with me

we will meet at the edge of the sea
me in the sea
you on the beach
and talk

but this is goodbye
I won’t come out again

and I say to the Beloved
I am sorry about the wings
I will use the wings

my back was so sore
where the wings were

the wings are back

I still have my scales and tail

I rise to the surface of the sea
I spread my wings
scales, tail and wings

I begin

now I will fly

8/3/16

Another fog photograph from last Saturday. Why don’t we spell it phog?